WebNovels

Chapter 155 - Chapter 155 Hermes's Answer

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In the oppressive and terrifying atmosphere, Anthony finished recounting the events and waited for the Saint's decision.

After a moment of silence, Faus Ellen said, as if reminiscing:

"Those Blasphemers from the Artificial Death Faction intend to emulate what the Hidden Sage did, attempting to create a new Death themselves."

"The High Priest of the Church of Death, Haiter, who has already disappeared, is also the current controller of the Artificial Death Faction."

"Later, thanks to the Artificial Death plan, he became an Angel, which made him even more fanatical about this plan."

"If not for the existence of the Pale Empress making him wary, and the severe erosion he suffered in a certain ritual, preventing him from leaving his mausoleum currently, otherwise he would directly lose control. If not for that, he would have probably long wanted to devour us."

Anthony's pupils constricted. This was the first time he had heard these inside stories. As he let his imagination run wild, he heard Faus Ellen continue:

"However, in recent years, the Artificial Death Faction seems to have made some progress. The 'God' they speak of seems to have awakened a little, giving birth to many byproducts of the Artificial Death plan."

At this point, Faus Ellen's lips seemed to curl slightly, and he said with a hint of mockery:

"The most successful product can be said to be Patrick Bryan. That fool even thought he was rescued by Numinous Episcopate members and survived due to the grace of that 'God' in a ritual."

"In fact, the Artificial Death Faction originally only intended to use him as a sacrifice or material for a certain ritual. As a result, their inherently uncertain attempt produced an unexpected outcome."

"The Uniqueness left behind by the 'Death' developed an initial instinct, or underwent other changes, leading to Patrick Bryan's survival and the establishment of a certain connection with the so-called Artificial Death, with both his Spirit and body tainted with something special."

"So he has always been watched by Haiter. If you ever encounter him in the future, you must be careful. Hmph, he is also a fanatic."

Anthony's mouth slightly agape, information quickly surfaced in his mind:

Patrick Bryan, achieved Undying seven years ago, is one of the three Saints of the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death Faction.

Unexpectedly, he, who was already a Demigod with an extraordinary status, was also an experimental material and was never truly regarded as a member of the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death Faction.

Looking at the somewhat dazed Anthony, Faus Ellen sighed:

"Factional infighting within the Numinous Episcopate, the Royalist faction already covets our smaller factions, and in recent years, the Artificial Death Faction has been making constant moves."

"We indeed need help, but you must always remember one thing. External power is always just external power; it can be gained, and it can be lost."

"I will provide you with the necessary help, and I hope you can become the second Saint of our Repose Faction."

Anthony respectfully lowered his head, responding solemnly:

"I will not disappoint the Saint..."

-----------------

Looking at the amiable Hermes in front of him, Aaron couldn't help but twitch the corner of his mouth:

"I just came to get my spoils of war, why did I run into him? I don't have any high-level items from the Spectator Pathway on me."

Hermes smiled, looking at the young man whose Body of Mind and Heart was enveloped in dense dark-gold mist. Two chairs instantly appeared on the originally barren isolated island.

Seeing the Angel casually sit down, Aaron had no choice but to follow local customs and sat down somewhat cautiously.

"No need to be nervous. I cannot pry into your thoughts; I can only see a layer of mist. If I continue to forcibly pry, there might be some unpleasant consequences."

Hermes smiled, his posture casual, without the airs of an Angel, and at the same time, he hinted with a reminder:

"At most, it's like the previous dream, where through the guidance of the dream, you yourself display it."

Aaron breathed a sigh of relief, making a note of this. Connecting it to the previous events, he no longer deliberately suppressed his thoughts, and his brain rapidly processed information.

"The information Hermes revealed through the dream earlier is very interesting. Those things haven't happened yet, but they are logical, as if they are about to happen."

"It sounds like a prophecy. Is this also one of the abilities of a Sequence 2 Discerner? Or is it information obtained from the Twilight Hermit Order?"

"Is it a benevolent reminder? Or is it part of a trap itself?"

Aaron hesitated slightly, looking at Hermes, who wore a constant smile, and pretending to be ignorant, he slowly began:

"Why did you think that Ancestor Varna's condition was extremely poor before?"

Hermes scrutinized Aaron from head to toe, chuckling:

"During the Pale Disaster at the end of the Fourth Epoch, Varna, who had already achieved Angel status, obtained a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact that belonged to the Demoness Sect at the cost of severe injuries and near madness."

"Later, during Loen's 'Twenty Years War', a Sequence 3 War Bishop of the East Tucker Family was severely wounded by an Angel from the Feysac Empire."

"Nearly a thousand years have passed since then. That War Bishop has been missing, whether he is also in slumber to delay his injuries or has already fallen and become a Sealed Artifact."

"Even if in slumber, except for those few special Pathways, a Demigod's lifespan is at most 1,000 years; they will inevitably age and die."

"And that War Bishop was Varna's biological son, and also the core of Varna's previous Demigod advancement ritual. Heh heh, the Red Priest Pathway has a peculiarity or flaw after Demigod."

Aaron's pupils constricted, almost blurting out: "Anchor?"

Immediately, his heart tightened, and he suppressed the strange emotions within him, quickly stopping his words. Looking at Hermes, who was still smiling and very inviting to confide in, he thought to himself:

"This should be one of the inherent traits of a high-level Spectator Pathway Beyonder. I need to be careful; I absolutely cannot let anything slip."

Hermes smiled and nodded, not minding Aaron's small gesture.

"That's right, the stronger one is, the more important the corresponding Anchor. Such an Anchor being severely injured or even dying would only worsen Varna's condition."

"This is also why Varna signed a contract with William Augustus I of Loen back then; his condition at the time was extremely poor."

"Many high-level beings speculated that he wouldn't last much longer, but he still hasn't fallen even now, which is the fundamental reason why many existing beings are curious about his condition."

Aaron slightly lowered his head, suppressing the emotions in his heart. He had seen Varna, and his condition was surprisingly good, nothing like what Hermes had described.

For Hermes to consider his condition extremely poor means that Ancestor Varna was indeed severely injured at the time, to an extent that even Angels were somewhat helpless. And to fully recover in less than a thousand years, there is only one possibility.

Varna, who secretly became a Blessed of Evernight, received help from the Evernight Goddess and secretly recovered to normal.

Without continuing to ponder, Aaron raised his head again and tentatively asked:

"That Spectator Pathway Demigod you mentioned in the dream you wove?"

Hermes acted less like an Angel and more like a learned and benevolent teacher, saying gently:

"That is a member of the Psychology Alchemists' Council, but that is merely a separate identity."

Psychology Alchemists... George III...

A flash of lightning crossed his mind. Combining the hints from the dream with Hermes's explanation, Aaron finally confirmed his thoughts.

And this also made him recall a previously overlooked issue: neither George III nor Adam were ready to become Gods.

Starting a war prematurely was not their objective, which was why Aaron hadn't thought so much about it initially.

But combined with the final hint in the dream, after Prince Grov, who carried a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact, appeared, this sudden war abruptly ceased and did not trigger a larger conflict.

This made Aaron realize that from beginning to end, this suddenly erupted Southern Continent war was essentially meant to force Varna to act, to test his true condition.

And the only one capable and motivated to do so was George III.

After all, not everyone wanted him to achieve Black Emperor status. Having an enemy Angel whose condition was unknown would also make one uneasy when thinking from their perspective.

Aaron's lips curled slightly, unable to tell if it was mockery or sneer, and he sighed in his heart:

"What a good plan. George not only tested the Ancestor's condition but also didn't lose the colony, and incidentally, consumed the family's strength."

"That Iron-Blooded Knight of the Einhorn Family also gained the opportunity to complete his advancement ritual."

"Heh heh, truly a win-win solution."

Aaron, now enlightened, stood up and bowed to the Angel, asking his last question:

"Why do you help me like this?"

Hermes remained seated in his chair, his smile undiminished:

"The first time I saw you, I felt you were very much like a friend of mine. He was as mysterious as you, but you are more composed and know more than he did at the same stage."

"It's just a pity that he has already fallen. I hope you can go further with the help of that one."

"The great tide of the era is coming, and the Apocalypse is not far in the future..."

"He? Already fallen, does that refer to Roselle?" As this thought just surfaced in Aaron's mind, his consciousness wavered for a moment.

Opening his eyes again, the subconscious ocean and the spiritual sky had disappeared. Aaron looked around, hugged the brown box in his arms, and took out a dark-gold talisman from his embrace, throwing it towards the second floor.

This was an interference talisman Aaron had crafted himself, above the dark-gold mist, in response to himself, capable of disrupting any potential subsequent tracking and investigation.

After confirming his condition was normal again, Aaron activated Spirit World Travel. He was somewhat eager to return to Osel to verify some conjectures.

-----------------

The southernmost tip of the Southern Continent, the indigenous region of East Balam.

Near the southern coast is a massive canyon spanning hundreds of kilometers, known by the natives as the Abyss of Ferrying.

Legend has it that many years ago, black river water flowed here, and living beings in the areas it passed through would slowly wither and fall into the embrace of Death, as if crossing the river of Death inch by inch.

After the Church of Death was eliminated, the entire Abyss of Ferrying was shrouded in dense black smoke, looking from afar like the maw of the Abyss.

Patrick Bryan grew white feathers stained with pale yellow grease on his back, holding an ancient token from the Balam Empire period. Following the pull, he passed through the eerie black smoke.

He arrived at an unusually massive, entirely black mausoleum, embedded upside down into the ground, like an inverted pyramid.

Surrounding this mausoleum, a city with even more ancient Balam Empire characteristics was built. Ghostly fires surrounded the city, and pale lights flickered everywhere, replacing the Sun.

The city was divided into two parts by a black river. Walking on the streets were not only living people but also rotting corpses and countless vengeful spirits and phantoms.

This was the headquarters of the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death Faction - Manuel, where the "City of the Living" and the "City of the Dead" faced each other across the river, forming a complete cycle of life and Death.

Patrick Bryan stopped at the entrance of the massive mausoleum. A gray-robed woman with distinct Balam features turned her head, her lifeless gray eyes fixed on Patrick: "Follow me to meet the High Priest."

After speaking, she ignored Patrick and walked directly towards the mausoleum. Patrick showed no discomfort at the slight.

Because the one who had just spoken was Flora Tristan, the spokesperson for High Priest Haiter, a Sequence 3 Ferryman.

Silently following the lady, as they continuously descended through the passage and stairs, in the completely silent environment, there was no impatience or unease, letting their footsteps echo all around.

Until a river suddenly appeared before them, a phantom and dark river.

Flora's gray eyes shifted slightly, and a hint of pleasure appeared on her delicate yet lifeless face.

Beneath the surface of the river, countless skinless bloody arms, green vines with baby faces, and slippery tentacles with eyes were densely packed together, constantly leaping upwards, lifting a black and red boat from the river.

Patrick's eyebrows twitched slightly. He endured the faint sense of crisis transmitted by his spiritual intuition and followed Flora onto the "Ferry Boat."

At the edge of the river near the entrance, there were figures, some tall, some short, dressed in old clothes, walking back and forth with their backs to the two, seemingly troubled about how to cross the river.

Suddenly, they all slowly turned to face Patrick, revealing faces that were unusually numb. They were all people who had sacrificed their lives for the Artificial Death plan.

"As long as God awakens from slumber, all your sacrifices will be exchanged for God's grace, eternal life in Divine Kingdom..."

Patrick's gaze became frenzied, and he kept muttering. Flora, at the front of the "Ferry Boat," curled her lips slightly, saying nothing.

The "Ferry Boat" sailed across the illusory, pitch-black water, leaving a long trail, and arrived before an altar. On it lay a heavy coffin wrapped in white feathers, surrounded by pale skulls.

These grotesque white skulls were from humans, some belonged to animals, and some were extremely strange, with a sense of deformity, making it impossible to imagine their original appearance.

Patrick was momentarily dazed. His spirituality seemed to be stirred by some homologous power, as if he saw nearly illusory black thin tubes extending from the deep, dense, eerie, and cold boundless black mist, directly inserting into the coffin.

In just an instant, this scene disappeared. Patrick shook his head, suppressing the doubts in his heart, and quickly walked towards the altar.

Standing in front of the coffin, Patrick bowed his head and chanted in a language that seemed to originate from the Underworld:

"The King from the depths of Hell;

An Angel playing the Music of Death;

The Ruler above the River Styx."

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